


My Heart is in the Highlands

by chryssadirewolf



Category: game of thrones
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, jorleesi - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-06 07:14:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21222668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chryssadirewolf/pseuds/chryssadirewolf
Summary: Jack Mormont is a Scottish laird who lets out his castle as a bed and breakfast to pay for the upkeep. Along comes Dany Targaryen who comes to stay for the week to get away from her stressful London lifestyle and she is charmed by the castle, the landscape, and a certain ruggedly handsome Scotsman with Skye blue eyes.





	1. My Heart is in the Highlands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is my first fanfic. I was inspired to write it from reading all the wonderful Jorleesi fanfics I’ve found on A03 that helped lessen the sadness of Jorah and Daenerys never being able to express their love on GoT. I’ve set this in modern day and changed Jorah’s name to Jack. I hope you like it.

“My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here,

My heart's in the Highlands, a-chasing the deer;  
Chasing the wild-deer, and following the roe,  
My heart's in the Highlands, wherever I go.”  
—My Heart’s in the Highlands, Robert Burns (1789)

Dany was stressed and it showed. She had bags under eyes from not being able to sleep and everyone, everything annoyed her. Not one to mince words, Missy suggested not so subtly that Dany take a vacation because as much as everyone at the museum loved her, they were starting to refer to her as the Dragon Queen and it wasn’t a compliment. Missy texted her friend links to nearby spas and retreats but Dany had been wanting to visit Scotland for some time, so she looked online for a nice BnB in the highlands and found of all things, a castle—Castle Mormont. It was reasonably priced and from the online pics it looked liked something out of Braveheart or Outlander. It seemed too good to be true and Dany couldn’t help but wonder if it wasn’t actually some run down estate using stock photos to attract hapless travellers. She decided to look up its ratings and reviews and found them to be quite positive. There was also something about the castle and the name that appealed to her. While not impulsive by nature, Dany decided in this instance to just go ahead and book a week’s stay.

The train ride up to Scotland was not unpleasant. She had expected herself to be bored to tears but instead, she did something she had not done for a while. She took out her drawing pad and pencils to make sketches of the passing countryside. All along the train route, there were rolling hills of green, dotted with sheep as well as pretty little towns and villages along the way. Dany felt herself shedding the stress she had felt all week like a snake shedding its skin as she took in the picturesque scenery. Before she knew it, they were in Edinburgh and as she stepped off the train, a low and calming voice said, “Ms Targaryen” and a weathered but gentle hand reached out to help her onto the platform. Dany looked up to see who the voice and hand belonged to and she couldn’t help but softly gasp. Her brain was willing her to speak and not stand there like a schoolgirl with her mouth gaping but the rest of her body was unwilling to comply. She couldn’t believe her eyes or her reaction to this man, this absolutely gorgeous man with sky blue eyes and golden hair. Jack. His name was Jack Mormont and apparently he was the owner of the castle and a bona fide highland lord, or laird as Dany remembered from the countless romance novels she read when she wasn’t reading Byron, Shakespeare, or the Summa Theologica by Saint Thomas Aquinas. She tried not to stare but she couldn’t help but notice his chiseled cheekbones, tall and lithe frame, and the golden scruff on his neck and the bits peaking out from his soft blue oxford shirt, unbuttoned, no tie.

She tried to make polite conversation during the 45 minute drive from Edinburgh to the castle but found herself a bit awestruck at first. She even stammered a bit which didn’t happen much anymore except when she was nervous. By the time she was able to compose herself and at least give the impression she was an accomplished and educated adult and not a silly schoolgirl on her first outing, they had arrived at the castle. It didn’t look like the online pics—it looked better, much better and Dany could tell this was going to be a wonderful vacation.

Dany didn’t know any lords or ladies so she wasn’t quite sure how to address him at first, if she should call the man who was helping her with her luggage “sir” or “your grace” which seemed absurd but she didn’t want to appear rude or uncouth. Thankfully, he seemed to sense her conundrum and said everyone just called him Jack as he unloaded her bags from the back of the Land Rover. “God he was handsome. He looked like he had just stepped out of a Ralph Lauren advert,” Dany thought to herself. All that was missing was a pair of hunting dogs, and as if on cue, two yellow labs came running up to him as the front door opened and a large man came out to help with the bags. The dogs jumped up on Dany who, although startled, was nevertheless delighted. She loved dogs.

J: Castor, Pollux, off! I’m very sorry about that. Sam, please show Ms. Targaryen to her room.  
S: Of course you’re lordship. *to Dany* This way miss.  
D: *to Jack* Everyone calls you Jack. *smiles*  
J: *looks down shyly* Almost everyone. *smiles*  
S: Miss?

As Sam lead Dany through the large hall up a beautiful wooden staircase with intricately carved balusters, she gazed at the portraits on the wall.

D: Sam, are these all of his lordship’s ancestors?  
S: Yes, Miss. The Mormonts have lived here since the 11th century when king Macbeth bequeathed this land to the first laird.

Sam continued on to recite the family’s history but Dany stopped listening once she saw her room. It looked like the bedroom for Mary Queen of Scots. This was definitely not your typical BnB. Nothing about the castle or its owner was and Dany couldn’t help but wonder if this was all a dream and she was actually in a hospital in London after suffering a nervous breakdown.

The first couple of days, Dany spent exploring the grounds and making sketches of the garden, the castle, and the surrounding countryside. She noticed that Jack would often be found at the stables tending to his horses or with Sam making minor repairs. He was certainly a hands on lord, nothing like the stereotypical lazy aristocrat that often came to mind. Dinner was at 7 and quite informal. On the first night they had salmon, freshly caught by Jack earlier in the day, with a side of seasonal garden vegetables grown right on the premises. For dessert they had Cranachen, a traditional Scottish dessert made with oats, heather, honey, raspberry, cream, and fine whiskey. It was delicious and Dany couldn’t help but feel almost tipsy from the storybook surroundings and the intoxicatingly handsome host who she could swear was studying her, but then again, she might have been imagining it given her present state. As Sam cleared the table, Jack asked Dany if she would like to see the library.

D: Oh yes, I would love that. Thank you Jack.

As they walked down the hallway towards the library, Jack gave Dany a brief history of the castle and his family. Dany soaked it all in like a child in a toy shop. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what it was like to grow up surrounded by all that history. She barely knew anything about her grandparents and here was Jack talking about ancestors from the 11th century as if they were his present day aunts and uncles. When they finally reached the library, Dany felt like Belle when the Beast showed her his library. Once again, Jack seemed to know what she was thinking and said “No, I haven’t read all these books, just the poetry ones for now.

D: Do you like poetry?  
J: Yes, although I also read a fair amount of prose. But it’s hard not to be captivated by Burns living here.  
D: *breathlessly* so many books, I hardly know where to start.  
J: Maybe I can help you with that. Why don’t you sit by the fire and I’ll pick something to read out loud to you.

Now she knew she must be dreaming but she didn’t care. If this was a hallucination, she was going to jolly well enjoy it and with the eagerness of a child at Christmas, Dany sank into the large armchair by the fire, tucking her feet under her as she waited to see which book Jack would choose to read aloud. This became their after dinner nightly ritual. She and Jack would make their way to the library and he would pick out a book to read to her as she sat by the fire, mesmerised by the sound of his voice. All the while she would gaze at his face which was softly lit by the glow from the fire, emphasising the blue of his eyes, and the glints of gold in his hair. If ever she had a dragon heart and soul, something about Jack awoke the dragon within her and there was no putting it back to sleep now.

At first, Dany was shocked and a little embarrassed by her brazen pursuit of Jack. She had always been so composed when it came to relationships but he was not picking up on her subtle signals. Surely he must know how she felt? He did, actually, or rather he guessed, but he could not accept nor want to believe that this beautiful creature, this ephemeral beauty wanted him. The last few years had been rough on Jack financially and emotionally and it showed in the many lines on his face, the callouses on his hands. He had received many offers to sell but the castle, this estate had been in his family since King Macbeth gifted it to the first laird for his loyalty.

But want him she did, and short of coming down to breakfast, lunch, and dinner naked, Dany wore every low-cut, sheer, form-fitting outfit she brought, to no avail it seemed. He treated her no differently than the gamekeeper or cook, not that he treated them poorly. Indeed, he treated them and everyone he met with such graciousness that it just made her love him even more. Love!! The sudden revelation she had fallen in love with this man who seemed not to care for her both surprised and depressed her. She did not come to Scotland to fall in love, much less with a man old enough to be her father. But fall in love she did and although she admittedly had a very romanticised Outlander fascination for all things Scottish, her feelings for him were not based on some show (favourite or otherwise). From the moment he took her hand as she stepped off the train onto the platform, she felt an instant connection with him. It was electric.

Now here it was, exactly one week since she first came to Scotland, since she first met him. Seven days, yet it felt like she had been there for much longer and that they had known each other for more than one week. The connection she felt to him and with him from the moment they met at the train station seemed so familiar and deep. She could scarce explain it to herself much less to her friend Missy back in London who couldn’t understand why she didn’t seem very happy to be returning to her flat in Kensington, to her glamorous life in the city. As she came down to dinner with him that last night, she felt quite sad knowing she probably would never see him again. Afterall, as cordial and kind as he was towards her, as gentle and considerate, she told herself he was just being a good host to a paying guest, nothing more. She thought to skip their nightly poetry reading but decided to go ahead and treat herself to one more, one more night with him reading love poems to her by Browning, Burns, and Byron, saying the words she wished came from his heart. And then it happened. At first she thought she was imagining things, imagining he asked if she would have dinner with him when he came down to London for business in two weeks time. She must have looked like an idiot sitting there with her mouth open, staring blankly at him because he said “But of course, I understand if you’d rather not. I’m sure you’re calendar is quite full.”


	2. I Hold with Those Who Favour Fire

“From what I've tasted of desire  
I hold with those who favor fire.”  
Fire and Ice, Robert Frost (1920)

Dany was running late and nervous. Why was she nervous? She’d been on plenty of dates before with plenty of men—well, maybe not plenty of men but enough—and anyway he was the one who asked her. So why was she so nervous? As she looked for her purse and keys she grimaced. Her flat looked like it had been ransacked. Lucky for her they were meeting up at the restaurant. There were clothes everywhere. She’d tried on every dress in her wardrobe, vacillated between no underwear or black lacy ones and finally settled on a dress and underwear that frankly made her look like a nun compared to what she’d worn in Scotland when she not so subtly threw herself at him with no success, or so she thought until that last night when he asked her out. HE ASKED. She played the moment over and over in her head on the trip back to London hoping she hadn’t imagined it all like some lovesick lunatic. Thank goodness he texted her when she arrived to make sure she got home safely and to confirm their dinner date. HE TEXTED. She couldn’t breathe when she looked at her phone and saw she had a text from him: “Just checking you made it home. Got an alert about bad weather. See you in two weeks.” It wasn’t Lord Byron but it nevertheless made her all tingly and giggly. For two weeks she thought of nothing else except seeing him again and now the night of their dinner date had arrived and she was running late and nervous as hell. 

As Jack waited at the table, he felt his phone vibrate. It was a text from her.    
D: Rubbing layer.  
J: ??  
D: Sorry. Stupid autocorrect *Running late* Be there soon.  
J: K.

She knew she was late but she had to change one last time. This was her first date with him and she wanted to take his breathe away without looking like she was trying to take his breathe away and that dress just didn’t fit the bill. It was more suited for a job interview, not a date with a handsome man. By the time she arrived at Clos Maggiore, she was one hour late but from the look on his face, she knew she had made the right choice both in the dress and the man. God he was gorgeous standing there in a black suit and crisp white shirt—unbuttoned, no tie—sexy AF.

She looked beautiful, stunning really. Jack still couldn’t believe she was here with him. It had been years since he had been on a date with a beautiful woman. His marriage had been such a disaster both financially and emotionally that it had taken him all this time to bring the estate back into black, his heart, though, was another matter. After the divorce, he had convinced himself he was better off living like a hermit in the highlands, albeit a titled one with a castle.

Even though she had arrived one hour late, he did not seem at all bothered. In fact, he was positively charming and attentive. All throughout dinner he gazed at her with those piercing blue eyes and allowed her to chatter on about anything and everything until she ran out of things to say. When he did speak, she could feel every nerve in her body vibrate to the sound of his deep lilting voice. It was so incredibly exhilarating. Everything about him made her all tingly.

The dinner was perfect. From the food, the ambiance, and the service to the company, Dany could not have asked for a more magical evening. And now they were heading back to her flat and she was both nervous and giddy with anticipation of what was to come. But then she remembered the state in which she had left her flat. It was a shambles but perhaps he would not mind. She hoped he would not mind.

It felt very intimate sitting in the backseat of the cab with him, their legs and arms touching and occasionally their hands whenever the car came to a sudden stop at an intersection or swerved through traffic. She loved feeling the warmth of his body next to hers even if they were fully clothed, for now anyway. And every time he took her hand, she felt safe and protected. At last they had arrived and as they climbed up the steps to the front door, she took a breathe and asked him if he would like to come in for a cup of coffee or perhaps something stronger. He smiled and said coffee would be fine. 

Dany woke up with a smile on her face as she recalled the night before and how her handsome highland lord had kissed her, first on her hand, then on the inside of her wrist, as he made his way up to her neck, her cheeks, her eyelids, and finally to her mouth. All the while his calloused but experienced hands caressed her softly and maddeningly slow until she pleaded with him to end her agony which he did, tenderly at first, then more urgently until they were both spent. Initially she thought she had dreamt it all when she awoke to find herself alone in the bed but then she saw his shirt, socks and shoes on the floor and heard him singing as he cooked her breakfast. Playfully, she decided to put on his shirt and join him in the kitchen.

**************

Jack treated and made her feel like a queen and she in turn wanted nothing more than to make him feel like her king. When  she was in Scotland, Mrs. Atkins, the cook, had told her how the former Lady Mormont had nearly bankrupted the estate with  her lavish and extravagant lifestyle, while all the while treating Jack as if he was just a simple country squire instead of the noble lord he was. But like a true gentleman, he never once repaid her in like. He was ever gracious towards her even after she ran off with her fancy man. Since then, he worked hard to bring the estate back into the black, even going so far as doing a lot of the repairs himself and acting both as host and valet to guests. He could have easily allowed his circumstances to make him bitter and resentful but he chose instead to see it as an opportunity to learn new skills, to be resourceful, and self-reliant. Jack Mormont may have been born a lord but he was far from being a lazy aristocrat who treated others like they were beneath him.

Consequently, whenever Jack was in London on estate business, he spent his nights with Dany. And Dany would spend every weekend up in Scotland with Jack. She especially loved helping him with home improvement projects. More than once she actually pilfered a few threadbare items such as pillows or linens with the Mormont sigil to take back with her to London so that she could either have them repaired or repair them herself. Her mother had taught her to sew and embroider when she was little but she never saw much use for those skills until now. The first time she surprised Jack with a pillow she had repaired and embroidered herself, Jack was rendered speechless. At first Dany thought he was upset but then he wrapped his arms around her and that’s when she noticed her gentle bear was crying. Of course this made her cry too as she covered his face with kisses.

Whether they were in London or at Castle Mormont, every night, just as he had done when she first came to stay as a guest, Jack would read poetry to her after dinner, only now he read to her as they lay in bed, with her head on his shoulder and her body nestled comfortably alongside him. Sometimes, she would even put her hand on his chest so she could feel his heart beating and his chest rising whenever he took a breath. She never felt more loved or safe than when she was with Jack. Ever since her mother died when she was 13 and her father died three years ago, Dany saw the world as a dangerous place and life as fragile and fleeting. Jack changed all that. His quiet strength and calmness gave her a sense of security. In turn she brought a lightness of being back into his life and restored his belief in love.


	3. My Sun, My Moon, and All My Stars

“Silently if, out of not knowable night’s utmost nothing, wanders a little guess  
(only which is this world) more of my life does not leap than with the mystery your smile sings or if (spiraling as luminous they climb oblivion) voices who are dreams, less into heaven certainly earth swims than each my deeper death becomes your kiss losing through you what seemed myself, I find selves unimaginably mine; beyond sorrow’s own joys and hoping’s very fears  yours is the light by which my spirit’s born: yours is the darkness of my soul’s return—you are my sun, my moon, and all my stars.”  
—You are My Sun, My Moon, and all My Stars, E.E. Cummings

When Dany was a young, impressionable schoolgirl, her favourite subjects were literature and history. She loved reading and writing poetry, and learning about the kings and queens of England. She was particularly fascinated by the medieval time period and would often visit the V&A to gaze and sketch the treasures in the museum’s Medieval Collection. When her mother died, writing poetry and sketching pictures of knights and their maidens fair became her outlet and served as an anodyne for the pain. She would also watch movies such as Lady Hawke, Krull, and Labyrinth with her father when not studying for her GCSEs and later her A-levels. Eventually she earned undergraduate and postgraduate degrees in History from UCL, specialising in the Medieval Period.

Dany was very much like Hermione Granger, all books and cleverness, but the boys and young men who were interested in and dated her were often not very bookish. In fact they preferred to spend their dates snogging rather than reading and talking about poetry. Jack was the first and only man she’d ever met who loved poetry and history as much as she did, which is why she felt such a connection with him. He was the knight to her queen, her sun, moon, and all her stars. 

Dany and Jack were sound asleep when his phone rang. Jack reluctantly reached for his phone. It was his sister-in-law, his ex sister-in-law. Not wanting to wake Dany, Jack rose and took the call in the hallway. He had not spoken to Lynesse’s sister in ten years so whatever she was calling about couldn’t be good. It was nearly dawn when Dany reached for Jack and felt cold sheets instead of his warm body. She got up and put on the hastily discarded slip on the floor, blushing when she noticed one of the straps had been ripped off. Her gentle bear had been particularly playful and somewhat naughty last night, not that she minded. She loved it when he would make that low growl, especially while he was kissing her neck. The vibrations that growl generated sent shivers through her body, deep and delicious ones. But that was last night and now here he was in his study, staring out the window. Softly she said his name so as not to startle him from his reverie. He turned his head and she could see he was tired. Concerned she crossed the room and embraced him. His skin was cold. He must have been standing there barefoot and shirtless for hours.

D: You’re cold. What is it? What’s happened?  
J: Lynesse is dead. The private plane she and her husband were in crashed. There were no survivors. 

There was no emotion in his voice when he told her but nevertheless she could see there was sadness in his eyes. He may not have loved Lynesse but that didn’t mean he didn’t care. They had known each other since they were teenagers and as horrid as she may have been to him, she had been a part of his life and now she was gone. Dany didn’t know what to say or do. As if reading her thoughts, Jack kissed her tenderly and held her close, not speaking. It was enough for him just to have her there, safe in his arms.

Jack didn’t linger after the funeral. Most of the mourners were people who knew Lynesse after they had divorced and she had remarried. They probably thought he was just another collector showing up to make sure she and her husband, Paulo, were actually dead and that this was not some elaborate scheme to get out of paying their debts. 

The service was small and modest, almost miserly. True to form, Lynesse and Paulo lived beyond their means. So much so, they were lucky to have had a funeral at all given how much they owed. When Lynesse’s sister, Honouria, had called him about the plane crash, Jack graciously offered to pay for the funeral, knowing Lynesse and Paulo probably had not put anything aside or left a will, but Honouria said it would not be fair to him. She knew her sister and how she had treated Jack. Lynesse never deserved Jack, that was as clear in life as it was now in death. Not many men would have been as gracious or forgiving as Jack had been to such a self-absorbed and capricious wife. But he was not like most men and it was Lynesse’s loss to have never seen that. At least now, Honouria mused, Jack could finally and truly be free of Lynesse and hopefully find someone who would appreciate his true worth. 

Compared to Rome, London probably seemed cold and wet to the tourists who had been on the same flight as Jack but to him it was home because of Dany. She had taken the day off from work to come pick him up and drive him back to her—their flat. It had become as much his as it was hers since they’d been together. She made certain of it, even going so far as to make room in her wardrobe for his things and stocking the pantry and fridge with his favourite foods, especially since it was Jack who normally cooked their meals. It was something he loved to do. But today, Dany was the one who cooked dinner and fussed over him. She knew the funeral was going to be exhausting for Jack and she wanted to make him as comfortable as possible when he came back.

Her bear was somber and quiet through dinner, understandably so. But at least he ate and afterwards, they sat on the sofa, and watched “Ladyhawke.” Dinner was delicious and he greatly appreciated how she fussed over him, making sure he had had enough to eat, that he was comfortable, and more importantly, that he knew how loved he was. Lynesse never once cared how he was feeling or if he was well but he loved her anyway for whatever reason. How appropriate it was to think of that time in his life as his “salad days when he was green in judgment.” 

Now here at his side was this intelligent, accomplished, thoughtful, kind, and beautiful woman who loved him as he never thought or believed he could be loved. There were times when he still could not believe Dany was real. It was as if he dreamed her into existence, that she had stepped out of one of those fairy tales and fantasy movies she loved so much.

It was late when the movie ended and although Jack had had an exhausting day, it was Dany who had fallen asleep. Carefully, he picked her up and carried her to the bed, before undressing to take a shower. Jack wanted to wash every every trace of the day’s events and let all the unpleasantness associated with his misspent youth simply disappear down the drain. As he stood there, letting the water stream down his face and body, he felt Dany’s softness pressing against him. He turned to face her and saw in her eyes a silent plea to let her take the lead, to be the one to initiate. Gentleman that he was, Jack felt obligated to acquiesce to his queen’s request. 

Although she felt a little shy at first, Dany was emboldened when she heard Jack make that low growl she found so sexy and exciting. And so, slowly and methodically, she then began rubbing soap first on his neck, then his shoulders, his arms, his chest (making sure to lather the golden curls there thoroughly) and his torso, before kneeling down and rubbing soap on his legs and backside.It was maddening to have Dany touching him so seductively until his low growl became a snarl and eventually a guttural roar which only served to urge Dany to be even bolder with her hands and mouth. And when her ministrations had driven him to the edge of madness, he pulled her up and pushed her hard against the shower stall so he could reciprocate. Just as she had driven him mad with slow and rhythmic movements, Jack too explored her body with his hands and mouth, searing her with his kisses in all the most sensitive places.

And when neither Dany nor Jack could no longer think or even speak, their symphony of desire and longing reached its crescendo and left them both heaving and clinging to the other lest they dissolve into a wet puddle onto the shower floor. 


	4. You Do Something to Me

“You do something to me  
Something that simply mystifies me  
Tell me, why should it be?  
You have the pow'r to hypnotize me  
Let me live 'neath your spell  
Do do that voodoo that you do so well  
For you do something to me  
That nobody else can do.”  
—You Do Something to Me, Cole Porter (1929)

The gala ball at the museum was a welcome change for Jack and Dany, not to mention the perfect opportunity for Dany to finally introduce—as well as show off—her wonderful and charming bf to her friends and associates. For weeks they had wondered who it was that made Dany light up whenever she would check her phone but she was tighlipped. Her relationship with Jack was so very special and precious that she didn’t want to share it with anyone until she was sure it wasn’t a figment of her imagination. But Lynesse’s death made both Jack and Dany all the more aware of how short and fleeting life was and how important it was to cherish each moment of everyday they had with each other. Thus they decided to make their relationship official by arriving as a couple to the ball and what an entrance they made. As soon as they arrived, it was as if they were the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge. All eyes were on them and goodness but they looked stunning. Dany wore a beautiful black silk gown and her mother’s jewels while Jack wore white tie and tails. She looked like a 1930s movie star and he looked like the handsome and posh lord of the manor he was.

Dany could not be happier. It all felt like a wonderful dream to be wearing a beautiful dress and dancing with Lord Mormont in his white tie and tails. He looked so very handsome and was winning all her friends and associates over with his easy charm, perfect manners, and devastating smile. So very polished was he in every possible way that it was very easy for all of them to see why she had fallen in love with him. Some of her friends were even a tad envious Dany had won the heart of so dashing a man who also happened to be a lord. Several of them even inquired in a not so subtle way if he had friends or family he could introduce them to. Jack only smiled and said, “Perhaps.” Dany smiled as well, then slipped her arm around Jack’s and said, “This one’s taken,” just in case any of them thought he was still available.

Dancing was Dany’s second favourite activity to do with Jack. The way his fingers would stroke her back and the way he moved so smoothly and rhythmically—it was incredibly intimate and seductive. If they had not been in a room full of people, she would have loosened his bow tie with her teeth as her hands impatiently unbuttoned his shirt and freed him from those pesky clothes so she could have her way with him. Whatever witchcraft he may have used, whatever magic spell this man may have cast over her to make her want him so, she cared not. All she knew was she loved Jack, most ardently, body and soul.

Throughout the evening, like a Cheshire Cat, Jack smiled knowingly at Dany as they danced, as they socialised, and as they admired the artwork on display. He had always thought her beautiful but never more so than when she was happy which is why he had made up his mind from the first moment he saw her step off that train—if she would have him—he would endeavour to devote his life, however long or short, making sure she was incandescently happy and ever loved.

It had become quite loud and crowded inside the museum and Dany was starting to get quite warm so when Jack suggested they take a walk in the museum gardens, Dany said “Yes, please.” It was a balmy evening and the gardens were decorated to look like the forest from A Midsummer Night’s Dream complete with fairy lights and hidden clearings, “perfect for assignations” mused Dany. It made her giddy to think that this must be why Jack had suggested they go out into the gardens, and why he had lead them to a particularly secluded spot surrounded by a tall privet hedgerow with a large oak tree in the middle, decorated with string lights on its branches. It looked like something out of a fairy tale. As she too in their surroundings Dany smiled and said playfully, “I hope you brought me here to ravish me Jack. Otherwise I will have to take matters into my own hands and ravish you.” But as she turned to face Jack, she saw he had knelt down on one knee and was holding a little blue box in his hand. The blue of that box was unmistakable and Dany suddenly found she was afraid to speak, breathe, or blink for fear of waking up and finding this had all been a dream. It wasn’t a dream though. It was very real. Lord Jack Mormont was proposing to her.

J: Daenerys Targaryen, first of your name, I have loved you the moment I first saw you. I could scarce believe you were real, much less be interested in me but I knew I would regret it my whole life if I let you go without telling you how much I love you. I love you my queen with all my heart and it would make my life complete and me the happiest man if you would do me the honour of accepting my proposal of marriage. I vow to love you all the days of my life if you’ll have me. Allow me to serve you, to be your knight, your lord, to be yours.

D: Oh Jack. I love you so very much. Of course I accept your proposal. *crying* You’re already my knight my bear so fair. You’re also my sun, my moon, and all my stars. You are mine and I am yours now and always.

While Missy made some last minute adjustments to her veil and dress, Dany stood in thought and wondered if it was possible to die from happiness. Today was her wedding day and as she waited in the vestibule, all her most cherished moments played in her head like a video. She thought of her parents and how she wished they could have met Jack and had been here to see her become Lady Mormont. She especially wished her father was here to give her away but if Meghan Markle could walk down the aisle on her own, then so could she, right? Besides, as long as Jack was at the front waiting for her, that’s all that mattered. Jack. Jack who had taken her hand when she stepped off the train and carried her luggage when she came to Scotland on holiday. Jack who was not annoyed when she showed up on their first date one hour late but instead, greeted her with a slight bow and then pulled out the chair so she could sit down. Jack who reads her poetry and calls her his queen. Jack who humbled himself and bent the knee when asking her to marry him. He was the man she had chosen to be with for all their days remaining and the one who now stood by the altar waiting for her. As she entered the church and began her procession down the aisle, she could see Jack looking boyishly nervous but still gorgeous as ever in his black herringbone morning suit with striped pants and a sky blue cravat the same shade as his eyes. How she loved him, her knight, her bear, her Jack.


End file.
